Following Lucius
by Resonance and d
Summary: Narcissa has always followed Lucius. This time will be no different.


"Its all gone bad."

"What has?"

"Everything, Narcissa. Everything… We're going to lose it all."

"You're scaring me, Lucius. Turn around. I need to see your face."

"You can't. We're to lose everything! He's gone mad. We'll both die. Save Draco. We have nothing more to live for…"

"I don't understand."

"You will. Can't you feel him summoning you? I thought it was the smart thing to do. I'm sorry, Narcissa. I'm sorry I dragged you into this. Sorry we'll be dead."

"Turn around. I don't understand. Just turn around- I have to see your face!"

"Never again. I'm sorry."

"Lucius-"

"Tell Draco to do the right thing."

"I still don't- Stop! Lucius- you'll hurt yourself-"

"Avada Kedavra."

And then there was only silence.

It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Not with my Lucius on the floor, as dead as the muggles we so loathed.

We were sixteen, and deeply in love. Me, with my cold exterior and confused, dazzled interior, and him, beautiful as a fallen angel, with all the malice that entailed. Not a match made in heaven, perhaps- quite the opposite, it must have seemed to anyone else- but we were happy together.

School was a challenge for me, easy for him. It wasn't so much that I was less intelligent than others. I just didn't care so much for the subjects or for the teachers. I've never been able to summon much attention for anything unless it held all my interest, and of course Lucius had it at the time. He was everything to me- my night and my day, my sun and stars… I would have followed him anywhere. And I did.

"It's just a party," he'd said. I'd believed him, because I loved him, and because, even when he had no idea what he was talking about, he sounded like he knew best.

We went to the party. There was music, and dancing- people moving across the ballroom floor in giant graceful sweeps- but none of the others at the party had half as much passion in their souls that night as we.

There were delicate things to eat, lighter than wisps of cloud come to earth, and I sampled them all with Lucius, laughing all the time.

The real entertainment came after a few hours. We all retired to a large theatre in the recesses of the house, grand and dark, and sat. The hostess went upon the stage, and announced that a group of actors had been hired to perform a comedy. She asked that we all be quiet, as they would be using no amplification charms, and told us we would soon know why. She sat, the lights dimmed further, and, after a pause, the actors came on. They were dressed in bright, blinding colors, and had bells on their outfits in every place a bell could go. As they danced in circles, some became bears, and some bats, melting into the darkness above our heads. The rest ran away as wolves only seconds before more actors came on.

"Right this way," a man in an ugly pinstriped suit said. "Only a moment more, and we'll be at there." A skinny boy with brown hair followed.

They continued on, across the stage, not noticing the wolves sneaking up behind them. When they were halfway across the stage, the man stopped, and Apparated away. The boy was left standing in the middle of the stage, alone and surrounded by wolves.

It was only then that all of us in the audience really noticed him, and what he was. A muggle. A muggle in the Parkinson house. There was a gasp from all, until we realized that it was actually a splendid idea. Why waste a wizard actor in a role as pitiful as this, especially when it was a character doomed to die soon?

The wolves closed in on him, and the issue didn't really matter anymore. There was no muggle in theatre any longer- though he wasn't truly dead, just magicked away; muggles are hard to acquire, and not to be wasted without due cause- and his screams were so amusing that we forgave the better actors for bringing him in.

In the months that followed, I went to many such parties. Some were more entertaining, some less. I cared little. It was the dancing I enjoyed most of all.

But as time wore on, the parties became more and more somber. The music was quieter, and more subdued, the dancing slower. It was beautiful, but I no longer felt so free. The theatre became the focus of the parties, and the muggles were all the rage.

Eventually there was no dancing anymore.

"Please, Lucius, can we stay in the common room and dance all on our own? I'm weary from all the social time. We've done nothing else during the evenings for a week; why not stay here just once?"

But he wouldn't hear of it, so each night we dressed in gray or black robes, and went to balls more akin to funerals than parties. At each occasion I nearly died of boredom, and I feigned sickness more than once to avoid attending. But Lucius always went, and where he went I followed.

The first time I met Tom, it was obvious that he was the most important one in the room. He wore bright green robes in a room full of mourning, scared tones. I talked to him a bit, and must have mentioned that I missed the dancing, for at the next ball there was a full orchestra and dance floor. But it was never as free or cheerful as before, because I now had a debt.

The theatre continued, but the muggles' screams weren't as interesting. It was too often done to be funny, so the actors went further. There was torture now- the Cruciatus, of course, but more obscure charms as well, like the blood-boiling curse.

I no longer found it funny anyway. I just endured the boring shows as I had bourn Lucius' comments when I was "ill" during a ball.

One day, Lucius tells me I am to come to tea with him and a few close friends. It turns out that the friends are mostly people I know- Bellatrix, Rabastan, and Severus among them.

I spoke mostly with Bellatrix. Clothing, classes, the weather- Smalltalk such as this was made for quite a while. She was years below me in school, and we had much to catch up on. But eventually the conversation turned to more important matters.

"So, Cissy… What are your thoughts on muggles these days?"

I had to think a moment. I'd never really considered muggles worthy of thought, but it wasn't difficult to reach a conclusion.

"Well, they're a bit like animals, aren't they? But more useful."  
And I knew that was the right answer. Her red lips curved into a smile. "Have you met my good friend Lord Tom?" She shows me to a room where he sits, alone.

And it was the same man as at the party. The man in green. I again overcome with a sense that he was important, but it isn't obvious why. Perhaps something in his bearing- he holds himself like a king.

He kissed my hand, and Bellatrix left the room. Tom and I spoke of work. He had a job at the ministry, not the best but by no means the worst, and from it earned enough to live comfortably. But he had dreams and ambitions far beyond his present situation. I knew that he would end up more powerful that I could imagine, even then. He was influential even with this lowly job, and one day his position would match his bearing. I admired him greatly. If I hadn't had Lucius, I might even have fallen in love with him. But my heart was set. I would follow Lucius forever, to the ends of earth or into death itself.

When I graduated Hogwarts, I married Lucius immediately. We had our wedding in the Malfoy family manor, in the huge cold grand hall. Soon after, Draco is born. And less than a year after that, all hell breaks loose.

"We're dead, Narcissa. The ministry will get us- we'll be arrested- " he paces back and forth, head in his hands, panic in his every feature.

"Lucius…"

"Draco will be taken from us and given to _muggle-lovers_, of all people-"

"Lucius!"

I found it odd that during crisis I had no trouble making decisions. I was not hesitant. I just did what had to be done.

"Lucius, don't worry."  
"How can you say that?!"

"We have money, Lucius. Don't be silly about this. As long as enough gold falls into enough hands, we'll be fine."

"Oh. Of course."

"See? You don't need to worry. You do that far too much. Leave everything to me."

It is 13 more years before hell breaks loose again; this time I had no solution. The Dark Lord was risen. We had to follow our master, though he hides behind false names and followers; the mark on all of our arms assured that.

I stared at the letter in Lucius' hand.

There is to be a new Marking. No follower should ever be afraid to show their loyalty to the Dark Lord. Death eaters should wear their pride plain upon their faces.

Hell had been loose for so long by the time Lucius died that I thought nobody could box it up again and send it where it came from, least of all Dumbledore's golden boy. Such was the war. The mark on my arm burnt like fire day and night, and I was tired. I secretly prayed that Draco would run away, far from the war. But I had trained him too well; he will be loyal to the end.

After Lucius died, moments later, I sent for Draco. It didn't take long for him to come. I gave him a hug, which must have surprised him- I've never hugged him before that I can remember. And, as he stared at the corpse, I gave him all the advice I could muster:

"Do the right thing, Draco."

"And what is that, Mother?"

"How the hell should I know?"

And I follow Lucius, my last obligation fulfilled.


End file.
